


Gotham's Halloween Special

by JokerGothNerd



Series: Celebrating The Holidays [9]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Candy, Clowns, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Ghosts, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, M/M, No beta we kayak like Tim, sweets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 19:00:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21258086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JokerGothNerd/pseuds/JokerGothNerd
Summary: On All Hallows' Eve, Oswald Cobblepot and Edward Nygma sit around the fire, telling stories from Arkham Asylum - that aren't necessarily true, but it's fun.





	1. And So It Begins...

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on the television series Psychoville, and I do not claim this as my own in any case of legal matters. Enjoy x

T’was Hallowe'en night at the Nygma-Cobblepot mansion, and they were sitting in front of the fire, basking in the welcoming heat. Neither Oswald or Ed were huge fans of this holiday - as neither had participated in it at children - so this wasn't unusual for them. However, they did have a few Hallowe’en tunes on due to Edward’s insistence that Martín get to experience the even properly, however he had just gone to bed, leaving his parents to collapse from exhaustion. Oswald never wanted to hear ‘The Monster Mash’ ever again - no matter how much Ed tried to tell him he’d never actually heard it, because it’s someone singing about it. Somehow, Oswald managed to defy the urge to throw a cushion in his stupid face, opting to ask, “What shall we do tonight, dear?” Oswald asked, taking a sip from his glass of whiskey.

Most nights, they had a few drinks, then cuddled for a few hours. Despite how it sounds, after three years together, both were still ridiculously, madly in love. Barbara always said it was a 'honeymoon period’, which only made Ed argue that they'd had their honeymoon already.

“How about, since it's All Hallows Eve, we tell ghost stories?” a malicious grin sat on Ed's lips, as he set his glass down, and shifted a little.

“Alright. Do you want to go first, then? Because you seem very enthusiastic about this topic.”

“I know many tales about Arkham Asylum. Before and after its reopening. There's an awful lot of legends. But, some of them are more… questionable. Unlikely to have happened,” Ed warned his husband, smiling like the brilliant maniac he was.

“All the more interesting, go ahead.”

And so we begin our first tale of the night.    
Are you sitting comfortably? Then we'll begin…


	2. Trick Or Treat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jerome Valeska. The first victim of the night.

A few years ago, not far from the Cobblepot mansion, lived Jerome Valeska. He wasn't the happiest of people, but he was far more sane than he is now. Or perhaps not.  
  
Our tale begins on October 31st, also known as Hallowe’en. The street was dimly lit with pumpkins and street lamps, crowded with children and adults in costumes.

Believe it or not, Jerome's day job was as a children's entertainer - dressed as a clown. You can probably imagine that no one booked him anymore. Once upon a time, he was very popular, everyone ringing to ask him to do children's parties. But something changed. Something happened, and Jerome took up smoking, drugs and alcohol. And he hated Hallowe'en.

Walking along the road back home, small children ran, door to door asking for food. They were so noisy, and high on sugar. Who'd want to do that to a kid? Honestly.  
Jerome was walking quickly, to get away from the swarm. Unfortunately, at that moment, he stumbled upon a rather large pumpkin-shaped piece of candy on the floor, unopened.

“What a waste,” he huffed, snatching it up, “I'll have that later.”

* * *

15 minutes. 15 minutes he'd been back, and the doorbell was going off. Again. Jerome swung the door open, and before him stood two young girls, one dressed as a kitten, the other a stereotypical witch, complete with green face paint. “Trick or treat!” Ugh.

So, for a moment, he joined in, masked with a sadistic grin, “Ooh, you look scary. How old are you?”

“We’re both seven,” the kitten answered with hint of hope in her voice. This was the first house her and her little sister had visited on this evening.

“And can you read yet?” The girls quickly nodded, with smiles on their faces, a little unsure what he was on about though, but they were proud of their capabilities.

“What does that say then?” he pointed to a cardboard sign covered in black marker pen.

“Shall I read it for you? No tricks, no treats. Where’s your mother? Is she hiding further back?”

The mother of the two girls was stood well back of the drive, wondering what the fuck was going on. She should have known better - it had been spoken about regularly, that no one should visit Jerome Valeska on Hallowe’en. That madman wasn’t to be trusted, and he hated kids.

“Oh yeah, so you send your kids out to do your dirty work for you? They should both be in bed,” Jerome growled to the mother, then pointed to the little girl in a witch costume, “And she shouldn’t be having any more chocolate by the size of her. Piglet! What are you supposed to be anyway, a green elephant?”

This caused a slight commotion, as the little witch burst into tears, running to her mother. The kitten, however, plucked up her courage, asking, “Does that mean you don't have any treats then?”

“Don't push your luck, kid,” the clown slowly moved closer, speaking quietly, “I’ve drowned bigger cats than you.” And with that, he turned back, slamming the door in her face.

Throwing himself onto the battered sofa, Jerome took a look at his options, and promptly decided to watch the first and third Exorcist films (as he believed the second to be awful) then fall asleep. Perfect.

Unfortunately, this was short lived, as the doorbell rang for the third time that evening. What didn't they understand about the sign specifically stating he didn't do Hallowe'en?  
Outside, were two young children (surprise, surprise). Both wore masks, handmade by the look of it. Handmade badly too. One was obviously the devil, and the other appeared to be a doll. Or something similar. It was terribly difficult to figure out. Neither made a noise or moved.

“Go on, say it then,” Jerome snapped, automatically ready for this.

“How old are you?” Nothing.

“Can you not read?” Still nothing.

“Where’s your mother?” They just stood still as statues.

“Sod you, then!” He threw the door shut, took a few steps, then realised they hadn’t moved an inch. So he went back to them.

“Look, I’m not giving you things just ‘cause you’ve turned up at my house with masks on. I work hard to earn money to buy treats for myself. All this trick or treat, penny for the guy, cancer research: I don’t do any of it. Go and beg somewhere else.” As though they hadn’t understood any of it, they continued to be still. “Are you deaf as well as stupid? I’m not involved in this night. Me no likey! You’re weird. Alright, trick then. Piss off!” the door crashed shut, then quickly pushed open again, “That doesn’t mean shoving dog shit through my…”

They’d gone.

Jerome took a few steps out, carefully taking in his surroundings, but there was no trace of the children. None that he could see.

Ignoring it all, the clown walked back inside, neglecting to look in his car’s wing-mirror, where only the reflections of two young kids remained.

* * *

The DVD box for Exorcist 1 was grabbed, and the disc taken out. It was blank with only a name tag on, clearly from a second-hand shop. Unfortunately, the screen filled with colour and the words 'Summer Rainbow Network Presents’ in company with children's music.

Next, appeared a bunch of 5 to 8 year olds dancing around and playing with a man in a bird costume.

“I don’t believe this,” Jerome furiously yelled, “What’s on the other one then?”

He snatched the other box marked Exorcist 3, and looks inside to find the wrong disc: another kids programme.

“Some poor kid’s going to be shitting themselves tonight.” He got up to turn the television off, disappointed that he had nothing to do now. Slowly, the group of kids on the TV, move to the left to reveal the two children dressed up as a doll and a devil.  
He screamed, pulled out the plugs and moved back into his sofa. What the fucking hell was going on? This had never happened before. Nothing to this degree. Maybe it was the neighbours playing tricks. But it was freaking him out.

Out of the corner of his eye, there was a tub full of candy, that was squirming inside. And that was when it all went fuck up.

Cockroaches crawled out from the box, and appeared on the floor too - next thing he knew, a rat was on the table as though it had appeared out of nowhere.

Jerome did very little other than gawp at the sight before utterly freaking out and running for the phone in the kitchen.

Once he'd punched the number of the GCPD into his phone it didn't take long for them to pick up.

“**Hello**,” the phone on the other end answered, it was a man's voice. He sounded bored and uninterested. Typical bloody council.

“Hello, yes I want to make a complaint,” Jerome was frantically looking around him, making sure there were no bugs nearby.

“**You want to make a complaint**.”

“Yeah, I've got kids here tormenting me.”

“**Tormenting you**.”

“Yeah, they've put rats and beetles in my front room!” he noticed one near his foot, promptly squash it and almost vomiting at the sound. If anyone else in Gotham City had seen the commotion he made at the bugs, he’d never live it down.

“**Beetles in your front room**.”

“Yes! What you going to do about it?”

“**What are you going to do about it**?” at this precise moment, it clicked.

“Why are you repeating everything I say?” Jerome was becoming frightfully aware of was going on.

“**Everything you say**.” The voice began to distort, sounding more like a young girl now.

“Who is this?”

“**Who is this**?”

“Who is this?” as if saying it slightly louder would get a response.

“**Trick or treat**.”

This was the last straw, Jerome threw the phone down, and ran out of the house, like he was being chased by the infected from 28 Days Later. It was madness, the world was turning on him. He was stopped in his tracks as he almost ran into the little girl, dressed as a cat, from earlier. “Trick or treat!” She really didn't get it, did she?

“I told you, I don’t have any treats!” he growled at the seven year old. Kids, eh?

“What’s that in your pocket then?” she pointed to something sticking out of the clown’s pocket. He reached in, only to realise it was the pumpkin lolly he found before this all began. It was on the street. Not far from where Jerome was stood.

“I've got to go now,” the cat interrupted his thoughts, “Be careful mister it’s dangerous on this road, some children died.” As she left, the girl pointed to something next to them.

A bunch of flowers, fresh, not wilting. With a lolly identical to the one in his hand. He'd pretty much stolen from it. Amongst the flowers was a black and white polaroid photograph of a boy and a girl, dressed as a doll and a devil, except they held the masks. 

It was the two children that had been haunting Jerome all night. They had been killed here.

Out the corner of Jerome's eye, he saw them standing on the opposite side of the road. He understood why they were there now. He'd disturbed their shrine.

“I'm putting it back, alright? Sorry, I didn’t realise,” Jerome suddenly sounded very remorseful, and apologetic. Something no one had heard from him in a long time. But as he began to place the Hallowe'en candy back in its place, the boy and girl slowly drifted away.

“Hey! Where are you going? Stop!”

Jerome didn't think to look before running across the road in search of them. He'd been warned. But it was too late.

_ Trick or treat… _

* * *

“You know, that could be true. Jerome could have once been like that. Squeamish, I mean,” Oswald smiled, pouring himself another glass.

“Wouldn’t that have been a sight to see, and anyway, everyone knows he lived with the circus before becoming… what he is now,” Ed laughed, opening a decent bottle of Malbec for himself.

“Alright, my turn. I think some of this one might actually be true, but it’s pretty obvious that it’s not all accurate.”


End file.
